


The benefits of knocking first

by Lost_gallifrey



Series: Friends with benefits [4]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Interspecies Sex, M/M, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, kinky aliens, poor Shepard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3700487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_gallifrey/pseuds/Lost_gallifrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It's hard enough trying to bring the krogan clans to heel without sex starved turians showing up on the doorstep. And it isn't as if Wrex would admit to missing Garrus.....</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The benefits of knocking first

Only John Shepard could have walked into a krogan compound with a motley assortment of loathed races and not been shot on sight.

There was a bad human joke in there somewhere, Wrex mused from a perch on his shattered concrete throne. 'So a human, a turian, a cerberus operative and a salarian (who Wrex strongly suspected was THAT Mordin Solus) walk into a bar'.......The whole situation was so bizarre and improbable that it didn't even need a punchline.

Someone had shot half his turian's face off. Wrex wasn't sure if that, or his surge of unexplainable proprietary concern bothered him more. Even though he was (mostly) listening to Shepard, Wrex kept his eyes on Vakarian. Sometimes he forgot just how fast the shorter-lived races could change.....two short years and his whelp had grown up. Mangled face notwithstanding, the turian moved with a grace and confidence that was new.....same smart mouth though.

“Congratulations Wrex.” The damn turian was a careful study in innocence as he looked around at the rough camp. “This really is a very impressive.....slum.”

There was a humming undertone to Garrus' voice, a pitched harmonic layer that Wrex recognized as a greeting that went slightly beyond casual. Wrex hadn't made much of an effort to learn the layered nuances of turian speech....but he'd had plenty of exposure that taught him the basics. The tone Garrus had used was questioning, with clear sexual overtones. In common it probably would have basically meant: 'hello/good to see you/still interested?'

Timing it to something Shepard was still talking about, Wrex gave a decisive nod. 

The liquid, nearly inaudible reply, was a higher register affirmative rife with anticipation and a sexual hunger that made Wrex's quad tighten.

Humans (and batarians, volus, hanar and quarians) seemed oblivious to the layers of turian vocals that no translator bothered with, and Garrus was exploiting that shamelessly. Wrex got the impression the salarian understood him though, as the doctor blinked a few times, and a slight smile creased his wrinkled face.

It seemed to take forever to get Shepard a vehicle and directions. By the time he left, cheerfully telling Garrus to 'stop anyone from looting the shuttle, and try not to get lynched', Wrex was almost to the point of bending Vakarian over the weapons counter and having his then and there.

Naturally, that was when a handful of idiots decided to start fighting over the outcome of a contested varren match, and Wrex was forced to go break heads. By the time he'd thumped enough krogan to make the problems stop, Vakarian had disappeared.

The rythmic boom of the artillery gun the clan used for pest control was a fairly clear indication of where the turian had wandered off to. As expected, Wrex found him leant over the controls of the gun-reducing the pest problem one perfectly timed shot at a time.

“Garrus.” Wrex greeted laconically, leaning over the turian to rest a hand on the railing to either side of him. “What did you do to your face?”

“Just trying to look more krogan,” Garrus replied, mandibles flicking out into a smirk. The whelp was twitchy, hair triggered, but if half of what Wrex had heard out of Omega was true, the krogan couldn't blame him.

“Hah, try harder.” Wrex pressed his nose to Vakarian's neck, taking in the metallic, uniquely turian scent of him. When had that become more desirable than the thick, musky scent of a willing krogan female.

Wrex ran an idle hand along the heavy armor at Garrus' thigh, (and when had Vakarian started wearing heavy armor?) digging in at the waist, where the solid hardsuit changed to articulated plate and armor weave. The turian could definitely feel it, even through the layers of gear, and Wrex rumbled a laugh as the next shot missed it's pyjack target by a good six inches.

“Try not to hit the supplies.” Wrex used a thumbnail to undo the latches and seals on the side and flank of Garrus' armor. It didn't give him much room, not without making it really, really obvious what was going on....not that the turian would probably mind, utterly shameless creature that he was. Unfortunately, it was hard enough to keep the krogan moving forward on the path Wrex had chosen for them without losing heir respect over fucking a lesser species.

Vakarian was fever hot, even through the tight under-armor that covered his plated hide. Working his hand low enough to cup the turian's groin, Wrex was rewarded with a subtle twitch of his hip. The under-armor was too thick for much more than basic sensation, but even that was enough to have Garrus rocking into his palm, small needy noises vibrating in his throat.

Wrex had to drag in a deep breath, every physical urge telling him to just have the turian over the gun turret as he felt Vakarian twitch and emerge, hard and slick against the material of his under-armor.

“Eager, aren't you?” Wrex rubbed him roughly, “Tell me you haven't been waiting two years for this?”

“Me?” Garrus huffed a kind of breathy laugh, “Celibate for two years? Don't flatter yourself, Wrex.”

Two pyjacks crawled out from behind a crate, converging on the body of one of the dead. Whether they were just curious, or about to indulge in some cannibalism, Wrex would never know. The battlemaster could feel the tension bleed out of Garrus as he relaxed into the shot and scattered the pests into almost unrecognizable pieces.

“Heard you ran with a squad on Omega.....knowing you I imagine you had half the station in that time.” The thought of Vakarian writhing under someone else caused an unusual reaction in Wrex: half unaccountable jealousy, and half arousal. The thought of watching....even participating....

“There a question in there somewhere, Wrex?” Garrus gave a hiss of appreciation as Wrex unconsciously tightened his grip.

“Just curious what I'm up against.”

“I kept my hands off other krogan, if that helps to stoke your ego.”

“Hmmm,” Wrex ran a thumbnail along the swell of Garrus' cock. “ Back to something more familiar then? And here I'd hoped to ruin your own species for you.”

Garrus had no reply to that, but what Wrex could see of his face had gone cold and angry. The next pyjack to venture out of cover barely had time for a squeak of dismay before becoming little more than a bloody smear.

Sliding his hand up a little further, Wrex rested it on the thinner plating and hide of the turian's stomach, pulling him back as hard as he could. The armor to armor contact was doing little more than give a bit of teasing pressure, and Wrex could feel himself getting downright uncomfortable within the rapidly tightening confines of his codpiece.

Reluctantly, Wrex pulled his hand out of the addictive heat of Garrus' armor. “Better take this elsewhere, pup, before we start attracting an audience. Just....” Wrex leaned against the gun turret, willing his erection to subside before he was forced to waddle through the camp like a volus, “....give me a minute.”

The growling trill Vakarian made in reply was a noise of clear wanton lust and impatience.

“That's not helping.” Wrex reprimanded, trying to think about the most unappealing things he could......dalatrasses, dalatrasses laying eggs amid cavorting suitless voluses....

Wrex's private quarters were no fancier than any other krogan's. Utilitarian to the extreme, his only furnishings were a rough sleeping ledge, a weapons rack and a few empty cargo crates that doubled as storage and table.

Kicking aside the scrounged sheet of corrugated metal that served as a door, Wrex shoved Garrus in first. Yanking the makeshift door closed, Wrex left his shotgun propped outside. There weren't many clan urdnot krogan around camp at this time of day, but any that remained would see the gun and assume Wrex had company from the female camp and know to not interrupt.

“Get that miserable excuse for armor off!” Wrex pointed an accusatory finger at Garrus' shrapnel scarred hardsuit, fumbling one handed at his own armor.

Garrus laughed as krogan armor pieces ricocheted off the ground with a frantic clatter, he was being deliberately slow~turning the whole act into a show. 

“So help me, Vakarian....” Wrex warned, eyes narrowing in threat as he worked the heavier plate armor off his own legs. 

Vakarian had bulked up some since the last time Wrex had gotten his hands on him. The krogan still thought Garrus was ridiculously fragile, but there was definitely more solid muscle now. A breadth of shoulder and thigh that Wrex hadn't seen before.

By the time the last piece of Wrex's armor hit the floor, Garrus was sprawled on the blanket covered sleeping ledge, watching Wrex strip with avid eyes.

“I can't believe you sleep on rocks.” Curling a hand around his erection, Garrus hummed a low tone of arousal.”No wonder krogan are always so grumpy.”

“Hah! That's a first, Garrus,” Wrex managed a credible leer. “You complaining about something being hard.”

Wrex was so hard he ached. He wanted to do everything.....wanted that rough mouth around the aching flesh of his cock, wanted to bring Vakarian right to the edge and keep him there to hear him beg. Most of all he just wanted to bury himself quad deep in that strange body, loose himself in that malarial heat.

Knowing he was being overly rough, Wrex couldn't find it within himself to care as he grabbed Garrus' hip and half dragged him off the ledge. Whelp enjoyed being handled like that anyway, if he wanted to be petted and cosseted he'd have bedded an asari. Vakarian seemed to know exactly what Wrex wanted, turning around to rest his weight on his elbows and keel, letting the krogan push his legs apart.

Expecting to spend frustrating time working the turian until he was stretched enough that Wrex wouldn't do damage, the krogan stalled in surprise as his questing fingers found the body beneath him was already relaxed and slick.

“Eh?' Wrex managed to ask.

“Someone taught me that little trick,” Garrus grinned with a flash of sharp teeth. “Figured you might appreciate it.”

“Whoever they are, I'm not sure if I want to thank them or kill them!” Wrex blurted out....presumably the reduced blood flow to his brain had caused the outburst.

Garrus rested his forehead against his forearms, and Wrex thought he heard him mutter “get in line.”

“Where did you even get....anything like this...” Wrex groaned deep in his chest as he pushed into that familiar heat. 

“Backstreet store in the wards, ahh,” Garrus gasped as Wrex roughly shoved his way into him. “Little asari that runs the place has a truly twisted imagination.”

“I wouldn't call other people twisted, Vakarian,” Wrex tried hard to not think about Garrus cheerfully asking some poor shopkeeper about krogan/turian sex aids. “Knowing you, you probably got Shepard to pay for it.”

“Yeah, I charged it to the Normandy accounts,” Wrex closed his eyes, as Garrus laughed a wild, flanging burst. “Wrote it up as 'routine gun maintenance'.”

The pace Wrex set was punishing. His thick fingers dug into Garrus' hips hard enough that he knew the turian would sport blue-black bruising for days afterwards. If anything, the discomfort only seemed to amp Garrus up more, and he bucked back against Wrex as his panting breath hissed between clenched teeth.

Grabbing for Vakarian's fringe, Wrex hauled him upright, feeling the full body shiver that wracked the turian's body as the maneuver changed Wrex's angle within him.

“Spirits, I missed this!”Garrus managed to gasp out. Then Wrex reached around to grab his cock, and to press rough fingers into that sensitive flesh behind the turian's parted plates, and Garrus couldn't do more than make helpless vowel noises.

The electrical tingle was starting too soon, and Wrex struggled to hold it off.......that was probably the reason he never heard the grate of metal when Shepard shoved his door aside.

The human was holding Wrex's shotgun in one hand, just opening his mouth to speak when his eyes adjusted to the gloom. Shepard's mouth stayed slackly open, but it wasn't words that emerged, it was the sound of something small and horrified dying in utter mortification.

“What...what??!” Shepard babbled as Wrex shoved Garrus as far away from him as he could. “How is that even....just...why?”

“It's not what you think.” Wrex didn't know why he cared what Shepard thought, but the way the confusion was metamorphosing into some kind of horrified fascination on his face made the krogan uncomfortable.

Obviously annoyed at Wrex's reaction, the look Garrus gave the battlemaster was pure smirking spite, with a flash of hurt that made Wrex feel unaccountably ashamed. “Unless you think I was fucking Wrex, then it was probably exactly what you were thinking.”

“That's....that's....disturbing.” Commander Shepard, the man who had faced a reaper without flinching closed his eyes, opening them very slowly again, as if with some hope that pants would have magically materialized on his friends. 

In a sort of inevitable progression Shepard's gaze slid inexorably down to where Wrex's rampant cock was pointing at him accusingly, and his eyes widened comically. “How...how...does that even..” he waved helplessly at the slender turian, “that....that must hurt.”

“Sometimes,” Vakarian shrugged idly as Wrex closed his eyes and thought longingly of his shotgun. “But not in a bad way.”

“Not in a bad...?” Shepard thought for a moment, then his skin flushed under the dusky stain of his stubble.”Oh....oh god”

Garrus was laughing openly at his commander's awkward confusion now, mandibles spread into an expression that made Wrex seriously question his assumption that the turian had been fucking Shepard as well. Far from looking humiliated, Garrus seemed amused.....if not a little proud.

“Oookay, I...I should...go. Away. I'm going to go away...” Shepard did an about face, still holding the shotgun awkwardly in front of him.

“Shepard!” Wrex ground out before he could stop himself.

“Wrex?” Shepard sounded half terrified.

“Next time....try knocking.” Wrex watched Shepard nod jerkily, carefully leaving with his eyes tight shut....now there was someone trying hard to get an image out of his brain. 

“Told you to stay out. Obvious sexual relationship. Intercourse inevitable....” Garrus snickered as Mordin berated Shepard until they were out of earshot.

“You really are shameless aren't you?” Wrex sighed, the way that salarian talked he couldn't imagine many of the Normandy's crew wouldn't know by the end of the day. “This doesn't bother you at all?”

“Why should it?” Garrus paced casually over to Wrex, trailing light talons over the krogan's thighs. “You're Urdnot Wrex, renowned bounty hunter, feared mercenary, leader of your clan, and hero of the Citadel.” Folding his knees, Garrus rubbed his face along Wex's abdomen. “I have..” he curled his tongue out to taste the krogan, “absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.”

Wrex didn't know how to answer that. Krogan, as a people (and Wrex in particular) were not as prone to talking as the other races.....krogan did not talk, they acted.

Wrex pulled Garrus to his feet, settling back on the hard surface of the sleeping ledge and pulling the turian into his lap. Forcing himself to really look at the strange, angular, shameless creature that had somehow inundated every facet of his life, Wrex admitted he might not have been fair.

“I'm old....I don't change as easily as you.” It wasn't an apology, Wrex hadn't apologized for anything in decades. “I'm not ashamed of this. Sometimes uncomfortable....but not ashamed.”

As he said it, Wrex realized it was true. At some point , without him even noticing, Vakarian had gone from being Wrex's shameful, dirty little secret, to a part of his life. Krogan didn't show much physical affection. They were a rough race, more prone to anger than love......but Wrex also knew that many of the other races shared what he considered to be a pathological addiction to closeness.

“Come here,” Wrex tugged Garrus up by the back of the neck; thick finger pads finding the sensitive nerves beneath the arch of fringe as he roughly pressed his crest to the turian's forehead. Garrus went almost limp with surprise, and Wrex couldn't help but tease. “If I'd known what it took to shut you up, I'd have done it years ago.”

Garrus did laugh at that, relaxed vocals thrumming with the tones of relief and pleasure. The movement reminded Wrex that there had been far too many interruptions, and that his cock was truly tired of being ignored.

Wrex would have tumbled Garrus onto his back, but to his surprise it was the turian who pushed him back, raising a brow-plate as he did so~as if to dare Wrex to complain. No complaints were voiced, and Wrex groaned in appreciation as Garrus deftly knee-walked up far enough to guide the krogan's aching cock to where he was still slick and open.

Sinking down slowly, Garrus was the picture of concentration, with head tilted back and mandibles clenched to his jaw. Wrex ran his hands over the quivering muscles in the turian's thighs. Just watching Vakarian struggle to take every inch of him was almost enough to make him cum, and that wasn't even taking into account the delicious friction as Garrus experimentally rolled his hips.

Resting one clawed hand on Wrex's stomach, and another on his thigh, Garrus pressed down until the krogan was fully seated inside him. When the turian rose on his knees, then sank sharply back, Wrex groaned deep in his chest and mumbled an appreciative string of curses.

Garrus rode him with an intensity that left Wrex breathless. The tight heat of him milking sensations from the krogan that made Wrex snarl and grab at Garrus' hips, pressing up into him with desperate abandon.

The battlemaster hardly had to touch Garrus to have the turian jerking helplessly in his hand, cock pulsing hot as he spilled into Wrex's fingers. Wrex used that as a natural lubricant to coat his hand and wring the aftershocks from Garrus until the turian was panting and shaking; sub-vocals so wrecked that Wrex had no idea if he was protesting or begging for more.

Wrex's orgasm hit him like a high speed train, leaving him quivering in its wake. He shuddered as another wave hit, the tightness of the turian around him dragging a flood of sensation and semen from his overstimulated body.

Spent and sated, wrex ran an idle hand along Garrus' bony back, settling on the spare curve of his ass. The turian was a warm, pliant weight, and although his keel ridge was digging uncomfortably into the krogan's stomach, Wrex had no intention of making him move.

“So, where is Shepard dragging you off to next?” Wrex wished, and not for the first time that he hadn't committed himself to dragging the ruins of his people out of the wreckage of their self-destructive belligerence. Now would be a good time to be back on the Normandy....

“Back to the Citadel I think. Shepards meeting up with some thief.....and I've got business there too.” The last statement made Garrus' voice go flat and cold, with some undefinable low tone rattling in his throat. Wrex wondered if it was rage or grief.....

“Anything you need backup for?” Wrex offered gruffly. If clan Urdnot couldn't handle his absence for a few days, they didn't deserve to flourish. But Garrus just shook his head mutely and refused to elaborate.

I should probably go,” Garrus shifted slightly as if to get up, then settled back down with a hum. “Shepard has probably lost every credit he owns at the varren pits by now.”

The movement was slight, but it was enough to remind Wrex's body that it was still encased in wet heat, and it gave an interested twitch.

“Really, Wrex?” Vakarian's flanged laugh segued into a hiss of pleasurable discomfort as Wrex started to harden inside him. “Not that I'm complaining, but Shepard....”

“Shepard....” With a powerful heave, Wrex reversed their positions, tumbling Garrus onto his back and hooking his forearms under the turian's knees. “Shepard can wait.”


End file.
